The Newest Everdeen
by PandorasCasket
Summary: Prim's daughter is picked out of thousands to compete in the Hunger Games. Coincidence? Or are the Everdeens still paying for Katniss's rebellion? Chapter One is up but I still think you should tell me what you think.
1. Prologue

Isilee Katniss Everdeen is my name. Katniss, for the aunt I never knew who had died before I was born.

My life has been torn apart by the Hunger Games once before. When I was twelve, my name was called. My uncle, well perhaps uncle isn't the right word. My honorary father? Anyway our close family friend, Gale had stayed up whispering late that night with Prim, whispers of conspiracy, of it being no accident that my name was called because the capital was still angry at Katniss. My aunt, her name was rarely spoken in District twelve but it certainly wasn't for lack of reverence but rather a certain degree of self preservation. Katniss Everdeen was a taboo subject.

Katniss and her failed rebellion.

Katniss and Peeta.

Katniss.

I wish she was still around. She sounds amazing, Gale gets all wistful when he talks about her. He says I look like her, except my eyes. They, like my mother's and Grandmother's, are blue and my skin is a bit paler. Dark hair and blue eyes set me apart from the other seam kids. That and the whispers that followed me.

I owe Katniss my life. It was because of her that someone volunteered for me. The girl said that she was dying anyway and that if she had to die she would like to do it in place of someone else and how I didn't have an older sister to volunteer for me like Katniss had. That she wanted to do something noteworthy.

Do you know how heartbreaking it is to watch someone die slowly and painfully knowing full well that it is entirely your fault? Don't answer that, I hope you haven't.

After that I truly hated the Capital, not just because someone told me to, it became personal.

I changed after that. In my early childhood I spent the majority of my free time with my mother with medicines and herbs in her apothecary and maybe one or so day per week in the woods with Gale. I don't think he enjoys hunting all that much anymore but we need the money. When Katniss died and the money was taken away we went straight back to poverty. Anyway, after that I couldn't bear the occasional deaths and just the responsibility of holding someone else's life in your hands and I turned to hunting instead. Gale taught me to hunt, I was especially good with bows.

I remember my mother once joked that I "had the gene", but nobody laughed. Instead she looked close to tears and turned away. I think it pains both of them how much I remind them of my aunt. To be entirely honest, I think my resemblance to her was the only reason that Gale thought I should learn how to hunt and why he spent so much time teaching me how to use a bow, more time than on making snares or any other subjects.

I thought I was safe. I thought that there was no way that I would be involved in the Hunger Games.

I was wrong.

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A/N: Alright, this is just a prolouge-ish thing that I wrote on a whim and I'm fairly certain I will continue it but future chapters will mosst likely be much longer. I felt like this chapter was necessary but not overly interesting and rather different than what the actual story will be like since it is just a brief history/thoughts and the main story won't be so spacey.

I really just wrote this on a whim and I kind of surprised that it ended up in first person which I am normally very definatly against. What do you think, did it work or not really? Anyway I've given you fair warning as of now, I may switch to third person omniscent in the near future of the story.


	2. Impossible Odds

Impossible Odds

_"In the honor of the 100th annual Hunger Games the names will be drawn from the people that were denied the chance to participate by a volunteer, provided that they are within the age range." _The President was saying, flashing the camera a brilliantly white smile.

In other words the people who had watched someone else die in their stead now will go to their own death. People like me.

The television winked out and I felt my heart sink. Gale walked stiffly out of the room and my mother turned away, tears glistening in her eyes.

The odds were certainly not in my favor.

There was a chance, however slim, that it wouldn't be my name on that slip of paper. There was one other girl that qualified, an eighteen year old, Melli something.

Maybe this was the Capitol's way of preventing further volunteering, if there was no guarantee that they would be free from the Hunger Games forever, what is the point? Katniss had started a trend of sorts. Older siblings volunteered for younger siblings, best friends, it was an honorable thing in the districts these days, to know that you saved someone's life with your death.

I spent nearly all my time those past weeks in the woods, shooting arrow after arrow, reading over the old books regarding edible plants and medical usages, getting as physically fit as possible, and just sitting under some tree, numb to the world.

I wouldn't accept it. I couldn't accept it.

But I had little choice.

I clung to that small chance that it wouldn't be me and at the same time I hated myself for doing it. If it wasn't me then it would be her. I was _hoping_ to send someone to their death.

The morning of the Reaping dawned brightly. It was as if the very weather was mocking me.

It was not my day. When I was getting up my foot became tangled in the sheets and I fell flat on my face. Yeah, I' m _so_ graceful. What a nice beginning to my day.

Overall my mother has been taking it very well, doing her best to remain happy but I've heard her crying some nights when she thinks I'm already asleep.

I thumped down the stairs wordlessly to find my mother had gone to great lengths to prepare an exquisite breakfast and exquisite it was. I couldn't help but smile at small plate of cinnamon rolls that were placed in the center.

"_Gale_ brought them." Prim nudges me and we share a conspiratorial smile after I quirk an eyebrow in askance at my mother.

Those rolls are the kind you can only get at the bakery and Gale and the Mellarks... Let's just say that they don't see eye to eye, especially regarding my family. Something to do with my aunt. It all seems to come back to Katniss doesn't it?

I'm touched that he got them for me anyway, they are my favorite and rather pricey too. We normally only get them once a year on my birthday.

My mother and I sit down to enjoy our breakfast thoroughly, laughing and joking to each other because our only other option is to mope through our (quite possibly) last ever meal together.

Gale stops by while Prim has just finished cleaning up our feast and I am lying on the dilapidated thing that my mother claims is a couch. He carried a small package wrapped in delicate blue cloth which he tossed to me.

I caught it one handedly.

"What? Cinnamon rolls and now presents. Lucky me!" I manage that last bit with only a touch of sarcasm.

"Hilarious. Just open it."

I unwrapped the blue fabric to find a small golden pin, a mockingjay.

"It was Katniss's." he stated softly, " She gave it to me before she...Wear it will you?"

"I will." I replied equally softly.

Mother and I search through the small chest of clothes from their brief wealth for something suitable to wear while Gale lounges on the couch laughing at us. I throw a dress at him to make him shut up but it only succeeds in making him laugh harder.

We find a dark green dress that is still far too long but it will have to do since the Reaping is fast approaching. I put it on and it make a small pool at my feet and the shoes are so big on me that I decide just to go barefoot.

The walk to the square is short but it feels far longer than it actually is. All talking stops as we walk past and they just watch us sadly.

I have now become one of the most pitied people in District Twelve.

Suddenly I'm glad I'm leaving District Twelve. People have always tiptoed around me with wary respect, me and Gale and Mum all and I'm sick of it. Most of Panem has probably forgotten about Katniss unlike District Twelve.

As I near the stage I'm able to see the three boys and Melli standing there. As I take my place standing in the spot for seventeen year olds, I realize that Melli really wasn't meant for the Hunger Games. She's small for eighteen and has no muscle. That and she grew in the better part of town so she didn't really have to starve or fall asleep freezing, not that I've done as much of that as most people in the Seam. She doesn't have a chance in the the games, truthfully she probably wouldn't make it past the Cornucopian blood bath.

District Twelve has already volunteered for me, if she get's picked I'll volunteer for District Twelve. Maybe, that is if I don't lose my nerve.

I turned to the boys, Malkin, Kaf and Jeck. Malkin, who was a cripple, was volunteered for by his older brother. Kaf surprisingly had his younger brother volunteer for him (he was small and in a similar situation as Melli). His brother stood a chance though, and actually made it to the final five. Then there was Jeck Kerr, out of the boys he was the most likely to live. He's eighteen now and he was called when he was twelve. Jeck's the son of the butcher and has no qualms about killing animals. After watching his brother die for him, he gained a reputation of being cold to most people and rather ruthless. I imagine he would also be handy with a knife too.

"Happy Hunger Games! May the odds be _ever_ in your favor." said our Capitol Representative. Jewel Piddleson, with light green skin and purple hair was hard to look at without snorting with laughter.

I rolled my eyes in my head, oh yes, because my odds are great already. Nevertheless, I kept what I'd like to think was an emotionless face.

"Boys first." she said as she stuck her hand in the very small glass bowl.

I guess fate decided to give me a small break because she called out, "Jeck Kerr"

I felt bad for wishing it to be him, but then again I want the best chance at survival. Considering they never ended the rule that two victors could survive from the same district, he was my best shot. Apparently the capital liked the idea of star-crossed lovers (other districts have copied the idea since) or at least looking out for more than just yourself. It added to the "drama". It's sick really but we're certainly not going to complain. She called for volunteers and neither boy did, as I knew they wouldn't.

Then the woman approached the second glass bowl containing thirteen slips of paper in there, neither of us took tesserae. Melli had seven and I had six. A six in thirteen shot, lovely. More if you count the fact that I more or less decided to volunteer anyway. Undesirable.

She reaches into the bowl and I realize that I'm holding my breath which I immediately let out.

" Isilee Everdeen"

Of course it is me. I'm almost pleased that I won't have to volunteer until I realize that I'm going to the Hunger Games.

Oh God, I'm _so_ going to die.

I walked, slowly and deliberately up to the stage where Jeck, the Mayor, Jewel, and our only surviving victor, Cny Sandlewyd stand.

Cny is useless. She won the year after the Quarter Quell and her victory was due to an insane amount of luck and sponsors. The Capitol was still excited about District Twelve but thanks to her successors we once again sunk into obscurity.

Jeck is examining me critically and I hold his eyes coldly as the mayor reads the Treaty of Treason aloud.

Finally it is time to shake hands and I find he seem to be trying to crush my fingers. I glare and him but he just grins back. Finally, the mayor ushers us into the gradually-becoming-more-and-more-pathetic Justice building.

My mother and Gale are the only ones who come to say goodbye. Prim pulls me into a embrace which we remain in for a long time until I feel tears beginning to form and I pull away.

Gale brushed a finger against the mockingjay pin and pulls me into a hug of his own and tells me to, "Come back like she did."

The tears are really flowing now but I brush them away and pray that they won't show. It's all too soon that they are forced to leave and I am led to the train station.

By the reaction of Jeck, the tears do show but I hardly care at this point. I climb up onto train and walk straight to what Jewel says is my room in those same slow deliberate steps without saying a word to anyone.

* * *

A/N: I told you that the chapters would get longer. I'd like to have made it even longer but I'd like to post it before I totter off to sleep.

Thank you to Kendel who favorited my story and reviewed! My thanks also go to my lovely sister who helped write a bit of this chapter and helped come up with some of the main concepts.

Over thirty people read my story and I only got two reviews! One of them doesn't even count because it's from my sister (Not that you aren't terribly important, sister-mine). Please, even if it's one word or just "It has potential" or something along those lines, I'd love to hear what you think. Now I just sound desperate, but what can I say? Reviews just brighten my day.

I'd still like to hear what you guys think about the first person style or just any question about the story (I promise to try my best to answer them)

I also forgot to say it last chapter so I will say it in this one: This isn't entirely CF compatible (if you didn't already gather that) but what happened to Katniss and Peeta will be explained fully at some point (at least I think it will, if I can find somewhere to fit it in).

Oh wow, what a long A/N. My apologies.

Happy (almost) New Year!


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